


Fellow(s) on a Furlough

by rixie_rhee



Series: In the Mood [9]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Cute, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 10:00:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16303040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rixie_rhee/pseuds/rixie_rhee
Summary: Nix follows Rissa back into their bedroom. He shuts the door tightly behind them and Dick wonders if he’ll have to sit through another tryst. But Nix is back a few minutes later, explaining that he needed to kiss her good-night. Dick smirks and shakes his head. Nix tells him to shut up and Dick responds that he hasn’t said anything.lyrics:I'm just a fellow on a furloughOut looking for a dreamThe one who's in my dreamsEv'ry nightA lonesome fellow on a furloughIn search of companySomebody who will be my guiding lightOh pretty lady, you'll hear me sayBeautiful Lady, are you goin' my way?I'm just a fellow on a furloughWhose hopes have all come trueThe girl of my furlough dreamIs you





	Fellow(s) on a Furlough

The bed is soft and comfortable, made up with white sheets, fluffed pillows, and soft blankets. It’s a far cry from an Army cot but it’s hardly luxurious, either. It’s the kind of bed you’d find in a home, and Dick supposes that’s exactly where he is. It’s nice, a welcome change, and although he cares deeply for his men--honestly, he loves them--a quiet weekend comes as a much appreciated respite.

Nix had asked him if he wanted to come along for the weekend and Dick finally agreed after hesitating. Two’s company and three’s a crowd, after all. But Nix insisted and the offer was tempting. So, Friday afternoon found them boarding the train. It wasn’t too over-crowded and the ride was short anyway. They fell in step walking from the station with their bags on their shoulders. Dick was glad to stretch his legs and Nix didn’t complain too much. He was too happy at the thought of seeing his girl to grouse.

Rissa greeted them both happily and warmly. She had supper waiting when he and Nix walked in the door, the kind of simple home food his mother used to put on the table. After dinner there was whiskey for Nix and lemonade for Dick and Rissa and summer twilight for everyone in the postage-stamp lawn. The yard was tiny but full of fragrant flowers and canopied in green leaves that threw dappled shadows. They traded stories and jokes while the shadows grew longer. Dick couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so relaxed. There was nothing at all that needed to be done, no one was asking anything of him. It can be so easy to forget that they’re all still fairly young.

Nix was sitting on his porch step smoking and Rissa was perched in a chair beside him, her bare toes curling in the tender grass. Her belly is no longer concave or even flat, instead it’s a pronounced arch under a loose dress. Nix’s hand found that curve over and again, rubbing it or resting there while he talked. The moon rose and the stars came out, Rissa yawned widely and that decided it. It was time to go inside and get ready for bed. Nix helped her to her feet, but he pulled her right to his chest and just held her close, his chin resting on top of her head and his arms wrapped around her.

“Are you tired, sweetheart?”

She nodded, and Nix led her up the steps and into the house, his arm still around her. Dick came in behind them and Nix locked the door. The air was still tinged with chicken in the kitchen, the tiny front room was dark and still, but the sitting room was friendly with dim light and the scent of books. The curtains floated on the breeze from the open window, and the air was perfumed with fragrant flowers and rich earth. The furniture was comfortable and worn, but still pretty.

Rissa stood on tip-toe to brush her lips on Dick’s cheek. She had to put a hand on his shoulder for balance; her center of gravity had shifted considerably. She kissed Nix’s mouth and ruffled his hair, and she told them both good-night. Her hand slid from Nix’s shoulder and along his arm, Nix’s fingers traced her palm until they were out of each other’s reach. Nix watched her with the ghost of a frankly sappy smile on his lips.

Nix heaved a sigh sprawled on his sofa, lighting another cigarette. The smoke curled above his head while he and Dick talked about everything and nothing. Dick wonders if anyone else would understand their conversation, so much of it is shorthand. Before long, he is yawning and then Nix is, too. Finally, he hoisted his bag up and followed Nix down the hall to the smaller of the two bedrooms. Nix talked over his shoulder the whole way. It was hard not to notice how warm and expansive he was, how easy and affectionate. He clapped Dick’s back and bade him good-night before going to his own room.

* * *

 

Now Dick is alone in the bedroom that’s his for the weekend. Somewhere outside the window, a bird is singing. It’s nice to have the bathroom all to himself, even if it is a sickening salmon color. He can take as long as he wants to wash his face and brush his teeth, and no one is on the other side of the door waiting for his turn. Or waiting to ask him a question, or solve problem, or give him any paperwork. It’s also nice to know he can rest and not be responsible for anyone but himself. Solitude has become precious.

He can hear muffled voices through the wall, then all is quiet, except for the bird. He stretches out, taking full advantage of the mattress and the pillows, liking the feel of freshly laundered sheets. His eyelids fall shut and he sighs, letting all the tension drain out of his arms and legs.

At first, it’s almost so quiet that he can’t tell if he’s hearing anything or not. He throws an arm over his eyes and exhales. A soft moan comes from the other side of the wall, but it might be nothing. It’s impossible not to hear the next one, not just because it’s louder but also because Nix tells Rissa to be quiet. She doesn’t listen. Dick wonders what the world Nix can be doing to her to make her sound like that. He blushes in the dark when he clearly hears Nix telling her to be a good girl. Then it’s Nix’s turn to be incoherent. Whatever she’s doing, he must like it. The extra pillow does a fair job of blocking out the sounds. After a while, Dick cautiously lifts the corner and for a few moments there’s nothing but the night sounds floating in through the window.

Then the bed springs start.

He’s stuck. There’s nothing to distract himself with--no radio or anything to read, he’d even welcome paperwork. If he leaves the room, he’ll have to turn on the lights and he’ll make his own noise. Then they will know that he heard them and he will know that they know and it will be awkward in the morning. And even if he did get up, what would he do? It would be worse to be waiting in the sitting room or the kitchen for them to finish. So he has to wait it out.

But it’s been a really, really long time. He’s acutely aware what’s happening in his shorts. If one avoids thinking of the specifics, it’s almost--well, it sounds like they’re having a good time. You can’t help it if your body responds; it’s an involuntary reaction. It’s nearly involuntary when his hand creeps down his belly, when his eyes screw shut.

He’s breathing in time to the squeaking bed and his hips thrust up in the same rhythm, but he tries not to think about that. He tries not to picture Nix and Rissa, tries to conjure up a girl in his mind. It’s hard to do. She’s no one in particular, just a clean, pretty girl who’d wrap her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. A girl who’d kiss him and go to bed with him and let him hold her afterward. She’d whisper in his ear she loves him and fall asleep in the crook of his arm.

The sounds coming from the next room make it hard to maintain the fantasy. He has to push images of his friends out of his mind.

\--He’s seen Nix naked; that’s unremarkable enough in the military. You change clothes when you can, wash when you can, and there are no bathrooms in the field. It’s all out in the open. And no one cares. He’s stood next to Nix in the shower, shared a blanket with him, relieved himself--that took some getting used to. Maybe it’s the most private thing you do, more so even than sex, because with sex there’s another person there, too. Usually.

It’d been strange, going to the bathroom outdoors and right in front of--or next to--another person. You were self-conscious at first, and then it became a matter of course, until you’d have conversations while no one acknowledged what you were doing. It got to be like the shower, you learned how to keep your eyes open and not see.

He’s also seen Nix naked in a far more intimate setting. Now, it’s one thing to catch a glimpse of your friend’s body in the communal shower but it’s quite another to walk in on him tangled up with his girl. It was hard not to notice that she was generously curved, and it was hard not to think of her, after seeing her moving under Lew. Then he’d feel guilty because they were all friends.

But it wasn’t just the curves, it was the love and affection that they lavished on each other, and that’s honestly the harder part. You can find the temporary sort of comfort, be it for a night or a week or a month, but to find someone who understands you, how wonderful that must be--

He grips himself and concentrates on the imaginary girl.

Next door, Rissa is begging, just ‘please, Lew, please’ over and over while he tells her to wait, not yet. The bed springs quicken and then Nix is telling her to go ahead, come, come for him. Rissa cries out, just a soft, wordless sound that ends in a sigh. Dick comes, too, spilling over his hand onto the clean sheets.

He lies in the dark, breathing hard, first feeling slightly ashamed and then outright embarrassed. On the other side of the wall, each creak is punctuated by a moan from Nix, then he groans and curses. He tells Rissa he loves her three times, and each time she answers. Dick can’t hear her words, but she couldn’t be saying anything else, not in that tone of voice.

Finally, there is nothing but silence from the next room. The bird is softly cooing outside the window and chlorine wafts up from the sheets.

Their door creaks open and Rissa’s light footsteps tread from the bedroom to the bathroom. Water runs and the toilet flushes. Heavier footfalls follow shortly after, Dick could recognize the familiar cadence of Nix’s walk anywhere. The bathroom door opens and shuts again, and now the voices come from there. The toilet flushes again, then water flows into the sink. Their voices sound slightly echoey and distorted until the door opens.

“--sure you don’t have to go again?”

“You try having a person on your bladder. I can’t help it.”

“Do you think he heard us?” This is a stage whisper, still clearly audible.

“You were loud enough to wake the dead, Lew.”

“When you’re--I can’t help it. You made me forget anyone else is here. And you weren’t exactly quiet, either.”

“I enjoyed myself immensely and I’m glad you did, too. Now let’s go to bed.” She yawns loudly. “We’ll worry about it in the morning.”

“That’s a good idea. Not the best idea you had tonight, but it’s still a good one.” Nix stifles a yawn. “Immensely, you say?”

“Immensely, yes.”

A smacking kiss is followed by a giggle, the bedroom door shuts for the last time, and everyone is quiet, even the bird.

His bed is bigger than a twin, but not by all that much. Dick is careful to stay near the edge; he has to lie on his side. His hand is sticky so he wipes it on his undershirt, across his belly. He’d would get up and go to the bathroom himself, but then they’d know he was awake and waiting for them to clear out. It’ll be less embarrassing for everyone if they can all claim ignorance. He doesn’t really need to use it anyway, and he’s tired besides.

* * *

 

In the morning, there is a sizeable stain almost exactly in the center of the bed. The sheet is puckered, forced into stiff wrinkles.

Dick gets up, washes his face, pees, brushes his teeth and dresses. He has a quiet morning hour to himself before anyone else even stirs. And when’s the last time he could say that? Nix and Rissa have a small collection of books and magazines. It’s pleasant to sit in a comfortable chair with an actual cushion and read for pleasure with the sun streaming through the window.

Clarissa finally comes in. She’s wearing another slightly shapeless dress, her hand rests on her belly. It’s already late July; she doesn’t have much longer to wait.

“Good morning,” she says. Dick looks up over his book, trying to read her face.

He forces himself to look up at her, strangely nervous to meet her eyes. It’s an unfamiliar feeling and it doesn’t sit well. But her smile is warm and she doesn’t seem self-conscious. Or at least, she doesn’t look that way. But the glance holds too long and then she does blush and neither one of them knows where to look.

“I’m sorry--”

“It was just--”

“Don’t let’s--”

Then they stopped interrupting each other.

“Can we just pretend everyone went right to sleep last night?”

“Yes. Perfect. Good idea.”

“Okay, good. Then would you like some breakfast? Eggs? I think there’s some ham, too.”

“That would be great.”

Rissa goes into her kitchen, she’s waddling but only just a little. A few minutes later Dick can smell the food cooking. She’s singing to herself in there, until she cuts herself off.

“Oh-oh!”

Dick’s out of his chair and into the kitchen almost before the exclamation is out of her mouth.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, it’s just the baby. Here, feel.” She grabs his wrist and places his hand flat on her abdomen. He can feel tremors and then a definite kick under his palm. Her entire belly moves alarmingly as if all her internal organs have flipped and a rounded bump presses against his hand. Dick’s eyes widen and flick to Rissa’s face. There is no more residual embarrassment, only wonder.

“I think that’s his butt,” she whispers, and then they both laugh.

“He?”

“I can’t be sure, but I feel like he might be a boy.”

Nix ambles in, his hair all over the place and his feet bare. He makes coffee with his eyes mostly shut. He stops to kiss Rissy, though, pressing his lips to her temple, and he tells her she’s adorable. She beams up at him and cups his cheek. Soon enough, breakfast is ready: eggs, sunny-side-up, ham, toast, a little bit of butter.

Clarissa takes a nap in the afternoon. Nix follows her back into their bedroom. He shuts the door tightly behind them and Dick wonders if he’ll have to sit through another tryst. But Nix comes is back a few minutes later, explaining that he needed to tuck her in and kiss her good-night. Dick smirks and shakes his head. Nix tells him to shut up and Dick responds that he hasn’t said anything.

“You want to come to the store with me? I need provisions. We’ll have to walk, but it’s not too hot out.”

Nix locks the door and stows the key in his pocket. He fishes his flask out and shakes it. It goes back in his pocket, too, as it’s nearly empty. He smokes instead.

He is clearly not impressed with the available options, but Nix still makes his selections of whiskey and wine. Bread and cheese and fruit are next. Milk chocolate. Beef, the price of which is shocking, but Nix shrugs and pays, only saying that Rissa needs good food, for the baby. And, of course, Nix likes good food. He also likes it when Rissa cooks for him, all the tiny ways she shows him exactly how much she loves him. And Nix adores her.

Everything but the but the milk bottle goes in brown paper bags, and they’re on their way back with their arms full.

Outside, there are two children selling flowers they must have picked themselves. Nix gives them all his pocket change and takes a newspaper cone of slightly wilted white blossoms. The little boy and girl are delighted with the pile of coins. Nix takes the chocolate out of the bag and gives them that, too. He grins at Dick over their heads. Dick likes this version of Nix.

They are very nearly back when Dick turns to his friend. He’s embarrassed but he needs to address his laundry situation; it’s been bothering him since he woke up. It’s Saturday, he and Nix will be leaving tomorrow afternoon. He doesn’t want to think of Rissa, Nix’s pregnant fiancée and his own friend, going to change the sheets and finding his mess.

“Nix?”

“Yeah?”

“I need to do laundry.”

“Just take it back with you.”

“No--” Even though he’s bright red again, he looks right at Nix obstinately, not averting his eyes. “Not my clothes. My sheets.”

Nix looks at him blankly for a few seconds and then bursts into laughter. Tears are running down his face. He points at Dick with two fingers; his eyes are crinkled and he’s red-faced, too. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he hitches, shaking his head.

“Shut up. I don’t want her to have to--”

“No, that would be bad, wouldn’t it? We’ll figure it out.” Nix is biting the inside of his cheek, struggling to speak without laughing. “She’ll still be asleep when we get back; we’ll take your sheets to be washed. You degenerate.”

He meets Dick’s eyes and then they’re both almost doubled over, right there on the walkway.

“I guess you heard us then.”

“You’d have to be deaf not to.”

“Sorry.” Nix is not sorry in the least.

“Nix?”

“What?”

“What the hell did you do to her to make her sound like that?”

Nix shakes his dark head. He looks better than Dick has ever seen him. Happy. He laughs again, favors Dick with a puckered smile. He knows the question isn’t really meant to be answered. Dick might be idly curious but he doesn’t want any details. ”Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“On second thought, no. Not at all.”

Nix slips the key in the lock and eases the door open, peering inside. No one is there, so they deposit the bags in the kitchen and Nix steals down the hall in sock feet. He stops at his bedroom door and cocks his head, listening. He motions Dick down the hall with the standard hand signal and Dick creeps after him. Nix retrieves the spare sheets from the linen cupboard and tucks them under his arm. Dick quickly strips the bed, then he and Nix make it back up. It’s Army neat, sheets pulled tight, with crisp hospital corners.

They sneak back out once they’re done. Nix has the soiled sheets in a brown paper bag. There’s no washing machine in the house, but there’s someone who takes in laundry down the street. A grey-haired woman answers and takes the parcel when Nix knocks on the door.

The afternoon is blue and gold, warm but with a light breeze. It’s too nice a day to spend cooped up inside, so they go through the house and right back outside. Small patches of flowers flank the porch and a few good-size trees tree shade most of the yard. Dick and Nix lounge under the largest one, right in the grass, side by side, arms crossed behind their heads.

They laughingly plot how to get Rissa’s sheets back without her knowing they were ever gone in the first place. It’s fun, simple, like being a kid. Nice to just be, to be young, and not to have much to worry about. After four years, this is another welcome novelty. Dick is twenty-seven years old, getting close to thirty, but he was only twenty-three when all this started. It was an abrupt ending to youth And now he feels old and young at the same time. Maybe that feeling will wear away. He hopes so.

Even now, when almost everything is an administrative matter, things get trumped up. One still has to deal with politics and bureaucratic red tape. It’s frustrating.

Dick almost didn’t take Nix up on his weekend invitation. He was worried he’d be intruding but that hasn’t been the case at all. He’s very glad he came along. This is exactly what he needed, exactly what he’d been missing.

Nix rolls onto his belly and stubs his cigarette out in the grass. “Did you ever think we’d end up here?”

“No, I can absolutely say no. I never thought you’d have a yard in Germany, let alone that we’d be here with your wife.” He catches Nix’s expression and clarifies. “I mean Rissa.”

“She will be, as soon as we can manage it.”

* * *

 

Rissa’s awake in her kitchen, singing little scraps of songs in her light, sweet voice, and then she hums In the Mood. She loves that one; it’s one of her favorites. God knows how many times she and Nix have danced to it. She cried when Glenn Miller’s plane went down.

Nix’s arms are crossed again, his cheek pillowed on his forearms and face turned toward Dick. His eyes are shut but his mouth is curled up into a smile. He’s mooning over his girl.

Dick pokes him in the ribs. “You’re so far gone.”

Nix’s pupils are almost lost in his irises. “Can you believe that girl puts up with me?”

Dick feels slightly guilty for teasing, gentle though it was. It dawns on him that Nix has shared the best thing he has--a weekend at his home. Maybe for Nix, this is the first time he’s ever had that, a house that feels like a home, with someone who loves him purely for himself.

He’s said that no one has ever loved him the way Rissy does. Nix is sociable. Funny, charming. He seems at ease anywhere. His acquaintances enjoy his company, but he doesn’t have many close friends.

Nix, just like every other soldier, had to be in proximity with everyone else. They live together, work together, fought together. There was no escaping bonds cemented by shared experience. At the heart of it, they were all forced to be together, but that didn’t mean the friendships that formed weren’t real. Dick knew that Nix didn’t doubt him or Harry, but he wasn’t as confident as he pretended to be with everyone else. The sarcasm and self-depreciation were what he used to keep anyone else from getting too close. He was used to people wanting things from him, wanting to know what they could do for him. And, of course, the gallows humor is also a way to cope with everything he’s seen and done.

\--And let’s be honest, no one has come out of this unscathed. Nix is no more broken than anyone else and better than some, especially now.

It was different with Clarissa. She sought him out. And she stayed when he got difficult. She didn’t ask him for anything but himself. So maybe for Nix, this tiny rented cottage is better than anything he left behind in the States. And he wanted to share it.--

Nix yawns and shuts his eyes, a fat bee buzzes over his head but he has fallen asleep and doesn’t know it’s there. Dick is tired, too. his eyelids are getting heavy an it seems like so much effort to bother to keep them open, anyway.

Later--exactly how much later he’s not sure--Dick wakes up to a groan from Nix. Rissa’s shaking his shoulder with her bare foot, calling his name softly. He turns away from her, curling into a comma, but she coos at him until he opens his eyes. She extends a hand to help him up, leaning back to haul him to his feet. Once Nix is upright again, he twirls her around and lifts her up so her knees are balanced on his hips. Rissa melts into him, kissing his mouth, twining her arms around his neck, whispering in his ear.

Dick stretches and groans, catching their attention. Nix sets Rissy on her feet in the grass, and he reaches down to help Dick up. His other arm stays around his girl, holding her close to his side.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty. It’s time to get up.”

Now there is something to do. It’s time to eat supper, and after that they will all do the clearing up, and once that’s done who knows? But it will be pleasant, swimming maybe or just talking again, until everyone is yawning and it’s time for bed. And even then, a soft, deep mattress, pillows and a quilt, and clean sheets are waiting.


End file.
